"Every Good and Perfect Gift Comes from Above"

I miss him. That has not changed.

The "rule" I discovered about his departure bringing minor calamities has proven true as well. RJ got splinters all over the bottom of her feet (and she won't let me remove them), a big diaper rash suddenly formed, Gabe's laptop just wouldn't turn on so we couldn't use that to communicate, Raychel has bled for the first time from a fall... and then repeated it twice more...

5 Minute Fridays | Perspective

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. 

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 When he packed his things in that old Cat bag and I made sure to fold the clothes over a photo in a frame it felt familiar. When he drove away and my heart couldn't take the burden it was an old feeling. When I sobbed into Samson I felt like I was home again - bitterly.

But when the pain subsided quickly. When I went outside to get the coffee my friend had brought over. When I took my daughter upstairs for a good long visit with her Auntie. When I was checked in on, brought food to (McDonald's. Twice. By separate people.), when I spent the night laughing. Those things are new. Those things are appreciated.

I know what it's like to be alone. I know what it's like to say goodbye. I know what it's like to cherish time together. I'm now learning what it's like to be surrounded. I'm learning what a normal business trip looks like. I'm learning that time apart doesn't mean bombs and fear and isolation.

Community

 

"And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near." (Hebrews 10:24-25)

You can almost call "missional communities" a trend. It even made it to wikipedia. You can almost call it that, except that the connotation of a trend is something fleeting and superficial and from what I have seen these groups are anything but.

Raychel Joye's Dedication

Emmaus Baby!

Last Sunday was Raychel's baby dedication. It's the first at Emmaus so I am kind of stoked that she is now the official Emmaus Baby. :P

For us, a dedication it is a public acknowledgment that our daughter is a gift. One which we fully intend on giving back to the Giver (i.e.: God). It's an act of consecration and solidarity. We know that we will fail in a million ways, but we commit to do our best to raise her up not only to know the Lord, but to follow Him.

Chairstyle

The chair in Tessa's living room.

I looked curiously at the big tan armchair sitting in the corner of a living room far from North Carolina or Salinas or Fargo. A living room right above my own actually, overlooking my new "hometown."

It was familiar and it took only moments for my memory to jog: this is the same chair Beth has had since I've known her. The chair I sobbed in while Gabe was gone and cuddled Ayden in during humid southern summers with the AC on. It's the chair I joined my husband in for rounds of the hat game and spent holidays lounging in after festivities died down. It's the chair I saw packed away in moving trucks and the chair I sat in with Raychel the size of a poppy seed tucked in my womb.

The chair in Beth's living room in Fargo.

God provided the Balls years ago when we needed family and He has not ceased to provide community everywhere we have been, building on the things He's taught us through every season. How appropriate then for this chair to be in the home of a brother and sister He has recently introduced to us. The Wellings and other beautiful believers we have come to know are family now, too. God's sincere and constant love is sewn through these relationships. Reminders (like this chair) are visible stitches. He provides, He loves, He answers prayer consistently and in a way that brings Him glory and us joy.

It's a comfortable armchair, but the warmth I feel when sitting in it comes from the heart of my generous Father rather than the stuffing.

Blue-'Berry

I am typing this with my darling little girl asleep next to me with her hands sweetly and gracefully balled up next to her face, one holding her chin. She has a content look on her face and every now and then a smile spreads under her button nose. She is a miracle. She is everything that is right with this world. She is God's message of hope and abundant affection. She is my beloved and anticipated Raychel Joye whom I have adored since long before I was a mother, a wife, a fiance or a girlfriend. She is my daughter.

I wanted to write this for a few reasons. One being that I am a writer at heart and it would be strange for me not to record it somewhere. Another being that I know I am not alone and I want others to know that they are also not alone. I was not prepared for the "Baby Blues" and I think that if I had read others' accounts and gotten an idea of what might happen it would have been helpful. The most significant reason however is to brag a little about my God. :)

The Birth Story

Disclosure: This is a fairly detailed account of Raychel's birth. If you don't want to know, don't read. :)

Raychel Joye Sedberry joined this crazy world on July 18, 2011 at 6:24 in the morning at Dayspring in Hayden, Idaho (she's our little spud). She weighed 8 pounds and 12 ounces and measured 21 inches long. She also had a full head of hair!

As she is lying here on the bed next to me, making adorable faces, I am just in complete amazement by her... I seriously can't even concentrate on writing this. It's taken me like an hour to get this far. She just keeps doing cute things!

Unity

On Sunday Justin (one of the leaders at Emmaus) spoke on Ephesians 4:1-16. He focused us on the unity Paul encourages. He told a hypothetical story about the 2 blind men that Jesus healed meeting one another after Jesus' ascension. They are excited to have found one another and begin to talk about it. One describes excitedly how Jesus answered his cry and commended his faith and then he could see! The other guy looks a little confused and corrects him saying that the first man must have meant to say

Pampered Chef

Gabe did a Pampered Chef party last weekend and I photographed it! :) It was really fun and he did a great job showing. Plus we had awesome food and got to meet new people while hanging out with friends. Perfect way to spend a Saturday morning!

Allelujah

Once again in church, during worship, my thoughts wandered a bit... My passion lacked and I prayed for focus, for humility, for less of myself and more of Jesus. Then as we began singing "Lead Me to the Cross" my prayer was answered. It carried into "All Creatures of Our God and King" as I was once again led to reflect on this baby - this small (and growing) creature of the King's for whom He died. And not only died, but endured temptation, severe persecution, betrayal, mockery, disappointment, fear...

Mrs. Sedberry Goes to Spokane

First off, anyone who knows me knows that I fell absolutely head over heels, past-the-honeymoon in love with Salinas. It was an unlikely match; my entire life I heard nothing out of Salinas but stories of gang shootings, drug deals, shady characters and general shenanigans. I was apprehensive to move there because of said stories, but to Salinas my husband led so to Salinas I followed. After nearly 2 years it became home. Partly because it is just beautiful there, partly because it is minutes from the city/town of Monterey, the world renown Big Sur and the fairytale village of Carmel, partly because I did not feel scorned by customer service representatives, but by an overwhelming majority, I fell in love with Salinas because of its people - specifically God's people.

Just a Drop of Monterey... and Less than that of God's Love

The other day Gabe and I were made aware of a job fair in Monterey. So of course he wanted to go. I thought, "I have not been to Monterey for a while, maybe after the fair we can go to Cannery Row or something," and decided to accompony him.

Speckled Hands

Beth and I have done it. Almost. Her house gets inspected tomorrow and she will inevitably be charged something because it's the Army and they're pretty much heartless. But we did in nonetheless. With our small frames and our nonexistent muscles we moved an entire house (nix the big furniture) from point A to point B. Not so hard you say? Try doing it in North Carolina summertime with a screaming newborn and no outside help. :-) Girl power!

No, really: God power. The more I think about it, the more amazed I am that we did this. I mean I was literally past exhaustion today. Every step was painful. Both Beth and I felt like lying down on the cold, hard floor and not getting back up. Yet we got through it. How? God was with us, I am sure of this. He was giving us the strength to do it and the energy we needed (even though it doesn't seem like it, we had more energy than we should have). Sure we complained and we were hurt and upset that people let us down, but in the end the job is done (almost all the way - we have a couple things to put in storage again).

Now we can look back and laugh... which is pretty much all we did once we finally sat down. We giggled at everything because that's what you do when you're delirious. And we went all gaga over our husbands - thinking about how they'd be making us tea and rubbing our sore muscles right now. We talked about how great and sweet they are and how understanding. Gabe is so appreciative... it's wonderful. It is so empowering to know that someone believes in me. He truly believes that I can do anything. He thinks that if it's put on my plate, I'm going to handle it with all the grace and maturity it requires. It's a very cool affirmation... and the coolest part is that I know I can't disappoint him there. If I fall short, if I mess up, he is understanding and sweet. He doesn't suddenly think I am incapable. He thinks I'm human and I am allowed some room for mistakes. He is so amazing... why did God decide to bless me so young with such a marvelous man?

Getting On

So last night was.... eventful. To say the least. It started off as simply a little pow-wow of complaints about our very below-par healthcare here in the Army and the way North Carolina cannot for the life of them do things efficiently. Then I got some stressful news about the trip home. At this point all we could do (Beth and I) was laugh. We stopped complaining and we laughed. At the dumbest things, we laughed. It was as though the only thing left to do in this depressing situtation was claw our way to happiness. Even if it was a little shallow.

This is what people don't get so well. People don't understand that this place we're in - without our husbands, carrying the home on our backs, dealing with the Army and it's ridiculous protocol - is not normal. It isn't like anything else. It isn't like a wife of a business man who travels or of a trucker who is on the road all the time. It is different. Our husbands are gone for a year - at least - and their lives are on the line. We watch the news and hear about roadside bombs and helicopter crashes and we lose sleep. We hear about 4 soldiers dying and when the rest of the country says, "How sad," we think about what those wives are going through and ache because we can imagine better than anyone else how they feel. Despite all the positive thinking in the world, we wonder if our husbads will be on the news...

We are underappreciated. And I know that just about every demographic says that, but it's true. If people saw what we go through every day there would be a drastic difference in the way we're treated. If family and friends saw what we go through there would be more phone calls and e-mails of encouragement and outreach. We'd be higher on their priority lists. They would understand why we need very desperately to feel cared for and important. Just because Gabe left 6 months ago doesn't mean I need any less love. I need a steady flow, not just an outburst when he leaves me right away.

I am functioning out here without my man. I am getting things done and working hard. I am making sure I eat and I excersise when I can. I take care of my dog and I pay all the bills. I read my bible and I pray. The hardest thing I do every day is go to bed. But I do it. I get in that bed where my dear husband and I used to have our best talks and share our most intimate moments. I sleep on my side because I can't stand the thought of taking up the whole thing and not leaving room for him. I pray for him there and I hope that wherever he is he knows I'm thinking of him and I miss him. Now Samson's butt is the warmth I feel and I'm ok with it because I know that my husband couldn't do what he does if I weren't. I'm ok with it because I have no other choice. I'm ok with it because I believe in what he is doing and I trust that God has a plan. I'm ok with it because I have to be.

So last night after we laughed at our gay dogs (who are currently in a fight and it's not looking good for the relationship - Sam is giving Winston the cold shoulder and swats him away whenever Winston tries to lick him) and ate what little we could, we watched TV. By the way, I don't know what I'd do without cable to keep my house noisy. All of a sudden Ayden started spitting up this clear stuff and got really stiff. It was terrifying. His arms were flailing and his face went dark, dark red. Beth went right into mommy-mode. The "lionness" (as her mom calls it) came out and despite the obvious fear and horror she was feeling, she held Ayden upright and firmly patted his front and back. He began breathing again after about 7 lightyear long seconds. We took him to the ER because the hospital said they wanted to check him out since he did stop breathing and he is fine. Totally healthy and normal. Babies just have dramatic gag reflexes.

Which proves that we are fine. Ayden's over compensating gag reflex proves that Beth and I are able. If nobody else in the world get it - even the people that should - we get it. If nobody else will put us on the top of their priority list, we will for each other. Army wives need each other because not many others will step up to the plate.

So now we're cleaning Beth's house so she can leave and doing work that was supposed to be done for her. But we're ok with that. Because we have to be.


God really is good all the time.